


Why we don't meet at Bruce's

by Askell



Series: If the kids are united [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Cinematic Universe, DCU, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Bad Humor, Bisexual Jason Todd, Chaos, Crack, Dick is trying, Don't Stop Me Now, Humor, If you wanna have a good time, Inspired by Real Events, Just give me a prompt, Memes, Other, Peanut Butter, Siblings, Siblings fight, Vines, he really is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 00:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13400046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askell/pseuds/Askell
Summary: Why the Justice League doesn't meet at Bruce's anymore. Also someone is covered in peanut butter, much to their discontent.





	Why we don't meet at Bruce's

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: it's been ten years or so since I last read/watched anything related to the Justice League, so forgive me if I used the most recent movie's continuity. It's not like it's really important here, since it's centered around the batkids being brats (except Cassie, that pure angel whom I love).
> 
> It's fully inspired by this post: https://holypunchlinebatman.tumblr.com/post/166450070053/its-now-widely-known-that-the-jl-cannot-do with some modifications because it would have been too easy to just copy otherwise. I love the way they did it though.
> 
> You can probably recognize loads of vines too. I'm not sorry. 
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! And please please please share your siblings wars stories, they crack me up each time <3

The Justice League was a potent organization of mighty good-doers, among them demigods, aliens and extraordinary humans alike, feared by their enemies and loved by their supporters. However, it had not always been the case. Like every hero him or herself, the Justice League had started small, and wobbly on its foundations. It had arisen through dire circumstances, for the sake of mankind, with higher ambitions than stability.

It had germinated in the mind of one man. Not a meta-human, nor an extra-terrestrial being favored by the yellow Sun, not an enhanced being blurring the frontier between organic and mechanic, not even a ‘son of’. A brilliant man, who humbly joked his only extraordinary trait was to be rich. 

After their first -and last- official meeting at Bruce Wayne’s house, Diana thought his real power resided in infinite patience. 

It had been an awkward reunion. 

Not that Wayne was a bad host, his secret meeting rooms had nothing to envy to the UN’s, but no one really knew why they were meeting in the first place. She certainly didn’t, but was curious to see how long the truce between him and Superman would last. Barry Allen attempted to lighten the conversation by introducing some jokes, half of which did not produce any smiles -different cultures, probably. When he had broken his second cup, Wayne disappeared for a moment and gave him a plastic, Batman-themed glass upon his return. 

It was close to midday when the first boy appeared. 

Bruce had been talking infrastructure plans, and quite frankly she listened only to be polite. Diana could see only Kent gave him his full attention, McCurry and Allen secretly betting who could refill their glasses first without leaving their chairs. Victor’s eyes were following Wayne’s hands, but he seemed completely out of the conversation. 

“Timothy!” boomed a man’s voice behind the door. “Did you just cover your brother in peanut butter?!”

“A moment please,” asked Bruce, completely unphased, as he rose up.

There was a conversation in the other room the newly founded Justice League members were suddenly very interested in listening to. However, the Batman returned with a blank face, an attractive cop closing the door after him. Diana wondered who that might have been, a secret boyfriend? She definitely knew sculptors who would give away their soul to have him pose for them. Even Barry had stopped fidgeting, his jaw so lack it seemed it would hit the table any moment.

“Can’t be Tim, look at him the poor bloke ain’t even alive right now,” drawled another man’s voice, thick with downtown Gotham accent.

“Coming from resurrected Jay-sus himself,” approved a teenager’s voice, who must have been ‘Tim’. 

“Then who covered Damian in peanut butter?!”

“Before you start yelling, Bluebird, lemme argue that thanks to our intervention his acne will get better.”

Of all the sounds Diana expected to hear that day, the warcry of a preteen, katana-wielding, cow-mounted boy was not on her list. 

“Bruce, maybe we should…” started Clark, his eyes bulging at a scene sadly only he could see. 

“Don’t.”

A loud crashing sound made the table vibrate, followed by a young man discreetly taking refuge in their room. How many attractive men did Bruce keep in his manor? This one was more rough around the edges, a white strip of hair striking against the deep black of his unruly mane. Leather-clad, he walked like he was the owner of the place, and not a visibly pissed off Bruce. One bottle of bourbon retrieved from the cabinet on the other end of the room, he sat in a corner and started to drink it without a glass.

“Dat fine piece of ass is over 21, stop judgin’,” he snarled, winking his pretty green eyes in their direction. 

“He’s not, just ignore him.”

Just as Bruce had finished his sentence, a gangly boy landed flat against the bay windows, slowly sliding off of it, leaving stretched fingerprints and brown stripes on the pristine glass. They finally got a better view of who should have been Damian Wayne, if the peanut butter was any indication, who looked like a small, angry Bruce. Cyborg was already bonding with the punk in the room, Batman looking more and more like someone who found a wasp in their olives. 

Diana most certainly hated wasps in her olives. 

“Your son, I presume?” interceded Clark, perhaps for the sole pleasure of annoying Bruce.

“Plural. Please ignore them and focus on the task at hand.”

It was more difficult than expected, especially when a curious cow with warpaints managed to open the door and wander inside, affectionately rubbing its head against Batman’s shoulder, who did not acknowledge its presence at all. His rebellious-looking son, on the other hand, had opened the window and was bowing his head outside.

“We’re here to commemorate Dickael Elizabeth Grayson, beloved brother and friend, deceased of a bad case of landing his flat ass yo,” the man snickered, raising his bottle with fake decorum. “He’ll be remembered for his inability to defeat a 6-years-old pb&j impersonation.”

“I’m 11 SO SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

“Fuck you Todd the toad!”

“Who the fu-”

“Young masters, language!” intervened an older man’s voice with a thick British accent.

“Sorry Alf! _Whom_ the fuck-”

“ _No._ ”

Suddenly looking down, the punk started to help another teenager who looked somewhere between 14 and 24 to climb in the room. Had had both hands on his forearms when a devilish grin broke on his face. The teenager suddenly looked panicked under his long dark bangs. His older brother got closer to his face, the smirk deepening. 

“Long live the Tim,” he growled, suddenly seizing both wrists and yanking him off the window. 

“You’re a dead man Jay!” Tim yelled, his voice getting less and less loud as he fell.

“Been there, done that. 5/7 would not recommend.”

Slowly looking back in Bruce’s direction, Diana jumped in her seat as an Asian girl entirely dressed in black gently patted his shoulder with apparent compassion. The man was pinching the bridge of his nose, visibly forcing himself to stay calm and poised. The Amazon princess recognized American sign language, the girl informing them that ‘Blue has hurt his lower back’. Diana guessed it was the sign she attributed to Grayson. To her surprise, Bruce signed back that he probably just bruised his ass, and the girl nodded. 

Dragging a chair as to make a maximum noise, ‘Jay’ slumped between her and Barry, who looked like it was his first time seeing aliens. As quick as he was, she did not miss the bob of his Adam apple when the other man grinned at both of them.

“See Pops,” he said, not looking at Bruce but definitely eying every one of the Justice League members appreciatively. “At first I disapproved, but when I see your team I can definitely understand the concept. Thanks, by the way, for reminding me how hella bisexual I am.”

Bruce seemed about to just give up on life when the door slammed once again behind him, almost hitting the poor bat-cow. The furious-looking, pretty cop was holding escrima sticks, which would have been impressive if he weren’t covered in feathers. 

“Oops, gotta go!” exclaimed Jason, already almost halfway through the window. 

He made a telephone sign with his hand and mouthed ‘call me’ at her, then disappeared just in time to avoid a batarang. His brother jumped right after him, and the room finally grew silent.

Bruce raised his face from his hands, looked pointedly at every one of them, deadly serious.

“...And it should be self-explanatory why I want our HQ to be in _space_.”


End file.
